


Advanced Combinatorics

by thingswithwings



Series: Advanced Combinatorics [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Chromatic Character, Cultural Differences, F/F, Games, Polyamory, Queer Families, Queer Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-12
Updated: 2008-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-24 02:56:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The game stays the same, but the pieces change.  A Rodney-has-always-been-a-cis-woman type universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advanced Combinatorics

**Author's Note:**

> This would never ever ever have gotten finished without help: [](http://the-drifter.livejournal.com/profile)[**the_drifter**](http://the-drifter.livejournal.com/) prodded me extensively on characterization and suggested a few changes that turned out to be essential; also she did nitty-gritty beta work, for which, bless her. [](http://eruthros.livejournal.com/profile)[**eruthros**](http://eruthros.livejournal.com/) helped from the beginning, but most recently she suggested a couple of plot elements that actually gave the story an ending, which is kind of important. And [](http://monanotlisa.livejournal.com/profile)[**monanotlisa**](http://monanotlisa.livejournal.com/) encouraged and cheerled early on. Thanks, guys!

"Are you warm enough, Doctor McKay?" Teyla asks, coming to sit beside her at the entrance to the tent. It's one of the little two-man numbers, which means it's too small for two men, but at least it's waterproof.

Meredith stares out the tent flap at the rain. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

After a long pause, Teyla speaks again. "I did not mean to disturb you. I will leave you to your thoughts." Usually, Meredith likes the politeness and formality with which Teyla operates; it makes her feel safe, somehow, like they've got a script to follow. But she doesn't really want to be left to her thoughts, either.

"That's ridiculous," she says, gesturing behind her at the tiny tent. "There's nowhere for you to go." She tries a smile, tries to tell Teyla that she's okay with some company. Teyla smiles back, and for once Meredith feels like she's not totally inept when it comes to women.

"I will join you, then." Teyla says, mirroring her cross-legged pose.

"I was just thinking," Meredith muses, "that we always split up this way. Boys in one tent, girls in the other."

Teyla nods. "I gathered from Doctor Weir that your culture has many concerns about paternity, and thus frowns on the possibility of extramarital sex."

Meredith laughs. "Yeah, I guess that's where it comes from. But really it's one of those old customs that doesn't make sense anymore. For one thing, we have contraceptives, so premarital sex isn't an issue."

She's mentioned birth control to Teyla before, and each time she's noticed the same result: Teyla's back tenses and she nods politely.

"And I guess the other concern is rape, but I don't think that's too likely in this situation either," Meredith continues blithely.

"Women on your world do not participate in combat training?"

She shrugs. "Not often. Or not enough, whatever. I took a self-defense class during undergrad, but I was never any good at it anyway." She smiles ruefully at Teyla. "I'm not so good at the physical stuff."

Teyla doesn't speak for a moment. "You are very good with your hands," she says eventually, her tone soft and intimate. Her gaze drops down momentarily to Meredith's hand where it rests against the tent floor, and she places her own hand next to it, carefully. Their fingers don't touch, but they nearly do. Teyla coughs, then continues in her normal voice. "And you took easily enough to the arms training that Major Sheppard gave you."

She smiles and gives Teyla an imperial wave of her hand. "I prefer to let you and Aiden and John handle those things, so long as you leave the brilliant thinking to me."

"Ah, of course." She can tell that she's being teased, Teyla-style, but she doesn't mind so much, sitting here quietly, breathing crisp air and watching the rain. It's odd; she's never felt particularly comfortable around Teyla, whose grace and competence and beauty seem so effortless. Teyla's exactly the kind of girl that she used to follow around in high school, talented and too kind to not hang out with her, even though Meredith was perennially uncool with her baggy jeans and her chess club and her curly hair that was just never going to look sexy.

Maybe it's this train of thought – remembering Michelle Zhang in grade eleven, first place in the Provincial Gymnastics Tournament and Student Council President, Michelle Zhang who kissed Meredith that one time in the chem lab after school – maybe it's that memory that makes Meredith press a little closer to Teyla, that makes her bold enough to brush their bare arms together.

"I could give you lessons," Teyla offers eventually, not pulling her arm away, and Meredith blinks, trying to remember the thread of the conversation.

"Oh, in self-defense."

"In combat, yes." When Teyla turns her head and smiles, the friendly little close-lipped smile of hers that doesn't often get trotted out during trade missions, Meredith gets that feeling that she always gets when she's about to do something desperately stupid.

 _Oh fuck, I am such an idiot,_ she thinks, while she presses her mouth to Teyla's.

Teyla's lips are soft and warm, pliant beneath hers for one long, glorious moment. Then she pulls back abruptly. Meredith's never seen Teyla blush before, so she's momentarily fascinated by the colour that covers her high cheekbones as she pulls back and away, breaking the contact between their bodies entirely.

"Doctor McKay," Teyla begins, her voice calm and rational and patient as it always is. Meredith can't bear to listen.

"Uh, no, listen, it's fine, I'm sorry, just – we'll forget I did that, okay? Just, just. I'm sorry." She listens to the babble coming out of her mouth with some detached horror.

"I – " Meredith's never heard Teyla stutter before, either. "It is all right." There's an awkward silence while Meredith scrubs two fingers against her forehead, avoiding Teyla's gaze.

"Perhaps we should get some rest," Teyla suggests eventually.

Meredith realises, suddenly, that this was probably the worst time to make a pass at your extremely not-into-chicks coworker, kind of _ever_ , given that they're now trapped together for the night in a tent that could only, if they were being honest, be called one-and-a-quarter-man sized. But somehow Teyla doesn't let it get awkward; she just slips into her sleeping bag and lies on her back, same as always, and is almost immediately relaxed and breathing deeply. Meredith wants to stay awake and worry about the whole situation, except somehow Teyla's warm body lying beside hers, trusting and kind, is enough to make Meredith relax, too. So she closes her eyes and listens to Teyla's breathing and lets herself drift off into the forgiving darkness.

-

In the morning, Teyla acts as if nothing happened, shaking Meredith out of bed like she always does and giving her impatient looks until she gets up and takes on her share of the packing.

"I hate this part," Meredith grumbles as she tries to roll her sleeping bag small enough to fit back in its absurdly tiny nylon case.

"Here," Teyla says, coming over and helping her hold the thing down. Their arms brush easily as they stuff the material into the case, their hands slipping over each other as they try to keep it from escaping. At the last moment, the sleeping bag surges up unexpectedly, slipping out of their hands, and Teyla laughs that rough genuine laugh of hers. Meredith groans and buries her face in the inanimate nylon that has defeated her brilliance.

"Your people have many excellent technologies, Doctor McKay, but this is not one of them," Teyla says, still laughing, sticking her tongue between her teeth as she tries to recapture the rogue material.

"Hey, I didn't invent it," Meredith protests, holding the bag while Teyla finally gets the last of the thing inside. "I'm a physicist, not a camp counsellor."

"Okay," Teyla says briskly, standing up and brushing off her hands, "now you have to help me with mine."

Meredith flops onto the bare tent floor in mock-exhaustion and grins up at her. "Okay," she says.

-

As time passes and things go on as normal, Meredith starts to relax; it doesn't seem like Teyla holds that kiss against her. They don't talk about it – which Meredith takes as a mercy, since she suspects that "bad with feelings" is the one fault that they share – but Teyla doesn't avoid her or anything. In fact, it seems like Teyla is going out of her way to be nice to her, sitting next to her at team movie nights, offering to help turn on and experiment with all the weird Wraith technology they've picked up, corralling her and dragging her off to the mess hall for meals when she starts working too late. She starts getting used to seeing Teyla around the city, starts getting used to the warmth of her body when they stand too close together in the labs.

One night she shows up at Meredith's door just after dinner with a little leather bag in one hand.

"It is a game I thought you might like," Teyla says, speaking more softly than usual, almost shyly. "I used to play often with Halling, but since he and I no longer live near each other, I need a new partner."

 _Ky-Nill_ is played with a set of polished, carved stones, each of which has three sides; as the pieces move around each other, their allegiances can change.

"There's no board?" Meredith asks. "No playing surface? A boundary to the game?"

Teyla shakes her head. "No – the potential placements of the pieces are determined by their relation to the other pieces. See, this one – serpent – cannot be placed horizontally next to any of these," Teyla's fingers point out three pieces that she hasn't named yet, "and must be always in diagonal relation to one of these," she points to the large pieces that she called nodes.

"Oh," Meredith says, understanding: "Oh, it's _topology_ , it's, it's _combinatorics_ – it's a network, that's brilliant." For a moment, she just trails her fingers helplessly over the pieces, entranced by the Athosian symbols that she doesn't recognise; then she looks back up at Teyla.

She looks . . . happy, in a way that she usually doesn't; she's often amused, or content, or relieved, but Meredith has seldom seen her look like this, relaxed and delighted. Her face is lit up, her eyes dancing, as if it's she who has been given a gift. Meredith can't help but fall a little more in love with her, even though she knows it's a bad idea. "I knew that you would like it," Teyla says, sounding satisfied.

"I do, I like it," Meredith says, and if she keeps looking at Teyla she'll do something dumb like kiss her again, so she just brushes her hair out of her eyes and bends down over the pieces again. It's almost like chess, except that in chess you can't win a rook over to your side, or change the mind of a knight just by placing it in the right context. The range of possible configurations is already spinning forth in Meredith's mind; each piece laid out, one at a time, forming a different network with every round of play. As Teyla begins to name the pieces, Meredith thinks: _the rules stay the same, but the pieces change._

She slides her thumb slowly over the serpent – which is also the water-bearer, which is also the change of seasons – relishing the slick feel of the polished stone beneath her skin.

"Okay," she says, shifting to pick up another piece, "so what does this one do?"

Teyla grins. "At first, it is always a snowfall."

-

Some months later, they arrive at the gay planet.

"Oh wow, it's the gay planet," John drawls, raising an eyebrow from behind his sunglasses.

"I think I was here once when I was running," Ronon offers. "Good caves."

The Minister for Trade and her wife smile at them. "We're making some pie," the Minister says.

"Come and have pie," the Minister's wife adds.

Teyla is polite and complimentary throughout the pie. Later, she negotiates easily and establishes a fair and profitable trade agreement. Meredith can't help but wonder: she's never seen any of the Athosians in same-sex pairs.

"You don't have, uh. Homosexuals? On Athos?" Meredith tries, later that day, when she's probably had too much pie and the pastry in her blood is affecting her judgment. It comes out mumbled and half-incoherent; her mouth feels dry.

Teyla purses her lips for a moment, then smiles and meets her eyes. "It is not a problem, Doctor McKay."

"Okay," Meredith says.

-

Meredith hangs out with John sometimes. They talk about tv shows, or play video games, or eat meals together. Meredith is pretty sure that he's gay, too, so they have that in common, even if they never talk about it.

"Vincent Price," John says, as they walk along the corridor.

"Shame?" Meredith guesses. "No, wait. The Eggman! He was the Eggman, Cliff Robertson was Shame."

"You got it," John agrees. "Okay, here's a tough one: Shelley Winters."

-

"New node," Teyla intones finally, placing her piece in diagonal relation to the old woman that Meredith has just played. "Waterfall becomes spaceship."

"I never understand that one," Meredith says with a laugh. Then she considers. Teyla is possibly consolidating power near that node to change her desert into a river.

"The connections between the different sides of the pieces are not set," Teyla says, shrugging one shoulder. "The associations do not always make sense immediately, and they emerge differently in each round of play. This is why the game is such an excellent meditational tool."

Meredith pauses, about to set a singing bird in horizontal relation to the spaceship. "Wait," she says, "meditational tool? Is this – are these _tarot cards_?"

Teyla grins at her as if she's going to pretend to not understand the reference. "I do not understand the reference," she lies.

"Oh, you do so. Have we been meditating all this time, or what?"

Teyla shrugs. "Whatever you call the state of mind you are in when you play."

Meredith eyes her suspiciously. "Uh huh." She plays the singing bird. "So, can they tell the future?" she asks sarcastically.

"Nobody can tell the future, Meredith," Teyla mutters absently, already scanning the network and looking for her next move.

-

Meredith's busy working on the Replicator nanites when the news comes out, so she doesn't hear about it until the next day when John sets his tray down next to hers at breakfast. He places it carefully, studying his eggs with uncommon intensity, and Meredith wishes that she knew what that meant.

"Did you know?" he asks a moment later, after shoveling a forkful of breakfast into his mouth and not looking at her.

Meredith blinks. "I know a lot of things, Colonel," she says, "but you're going to have to get a little less cryptic if you want an answer."

John meets her eyes then, his gaze hard and steady. "Did you know about Teyla's pregnancy?"

Holy shit. "Teyla's _pregnant_?" They played _Ky-Nill_ just last night; two days ago, they were on a mission together; a few days before that, Teyla spent hours with her in the labs playing with the genetic keys on the Wraith data recorders.

John winces. "A little louder, McKay."

"Well, you're the one who's going around telling people!" she hisses. An argument with John is a good idea; an argument with John will keep her attention off of the idea of losing Teyla from their team. It's Jeannie all over again.

"I am not going around _telling_ . . ." John starts, his voice rising on each word. A few heads turn to look at them, and John purses his lips before continuing in a subdued half-whisper. "I'm not going around telling people, okay? I just thought she might have, you know. Said something."

Meredith scowls. "Oh, she might have said something. Maybe when we were braiding each others' hair and painting our toenails last week?"

"Shut up, you know what I meant."

"She didn't tell me," Meredith says, her eyes on the food in front of her. "I didn't know."

-

Later that day, she gets a radio call from Teyla, inviting her to lunch.

"I have something I would like to tell you," Teyla says.

"Colonel Sheppard already told me," Meredith answers. "I'm too busy for lunch."

There's a long, cold silence on the line, and then it goes dead.

Later, Meredith sends Teyla an email telling her that she won't be able to make it to their Ky-Nill game that evening.

The next morning, when Meredith walks into the mess hall, Teyla gets up and leaves just as Meredith starts walking towards their usual table. When she sits down, Ronon and John stare at her disbelievingly.

"Wow," Ronon says eventually. "She's pissed at Sheppard, too, but at least she ate with him. What'd _you_ do to piss her off?"

"Nothing," Meredith mutters. "It's nothing."

-

It goes on like that for days, Teyla leaving rooms just as she enters them, Teyla skipping team movie nights, Teyla not dropping by her quarters to talk or play _Ky-Nill_ or work on the Wraith technology. Meredith tries to avoid her, too, but then after about a week she's tired of it, and has half-forgotten why she was avoiding Teyla, and she keeps turning on her radio with the intention of telling Teyla something, or asking her to lunch, or asking for help in translating some bizarre Ancient scientific text, and each time she has to purse her lips and turn her radio off again. It makes her feel lost, unmoored: she feels as if someone has suddenly changed the speed of light without telling her, universal constants going up in smoke.

Every day she wakes up with the intention of apologising – though she's not sure what she's apologising for – and every night she goes to bed without having spoken to Teyla.

Which is why it's a surprise when she opens the door to her quarters one morning to find Teyla standing right there on the threshold.

"May I speak with you?" she asks, the moment the doors open.

"Auuugh!" Meredith says, startled enough to jump backwards and spill hot coffee all over her wrist. "Jesus, Teyla, don't do that."

"I am inviting John and Ronon to Athos with me tomorrow, to meet Kanaan." At Meredith's blank look, Teyla continues, "the father of my child. I would like you to come too."

Meredith licks at her wrist and scowls at Teyla. "What, just like that? You're trying to tell me you're not still mad at me?"

"Oh," Teyla says, turning to walk away, "I am still mad at you. 17:00 hours in the gateroom. Do not be late."

-

Kanaan is exactly like Teyla: serious and wry, beautiful and considerate. He even has the Wraith gene, it turns out. Meredith tries very hard to make small talk with him, to be _nice_ , as if to prove to Teyla that she doesn't feel the deep heat of jealousy every time she sees them together. But maybe the uncharacteristic niceness is more of a giveaway than anything, because she feels Teyla's eye lingering on her consideringly whenever they're all together, feels that every word she says to Kanaan is being weighed, evaluated.

"We're all really excited for you and Teyla," she says, inanely, the first time they meet, as if she's spent this last week hanging out with Teyla and knitting baby blankets rather than having a fight and avoiding her. They're all sitting around a table in one of the Athosian tents, Ronon and John and Teyla and Kanaan, with Meredith sitting alone on the end.

"Thank you," Kanaan answers, smiling. Meredith gets the feeling that he has to try hard, too. "We were hoping for a child; too few have been born recently."

Meredith nods. "I guess population growth is pretty important, right now. With the Wraith and all." Teyla glances up sharply, at this, but says nothing. Everyone is quiet.

Down the table, John shifts uncomfortably and stabs at his food with his chopsticks. "So, you guys picked out any names?"

After the meal, Teyla ambushes her outside the tent while the others are still inside making small talk with Kanaan.

"Meredith?" Teyla asks, coming out of the shadows suddenly. Meredith jumps.

"God, would you stop doing that?" She sounds irritable even to herself. "What do you want?"

Now that she's standing in the light, Meredith can see Teyla's eyebrows, drawn together, and her mouth, corners drawn slightly down. She's known Teyla for four years, and she knows that look: Teyla's _pissed_.

"I do not know what you want," Teyla hisses suddenly, her words clipped. Meredith gets the feeling that this isn't what she was intending to say. "I just do not understand what it is that you want from me. I thought you would be . . . I thought we were friends," she finishes stiffly.

"We are," Meredith answers automatically, desperately. She's spent the last week trying to tell herself that she's better off without Teyla around, but looking at her now, arms crossed over her chest, angry and frustrated in the flickering light, Meredith can't keep up the pretense.

Teyla looks a little surprised by Meredith's sudden agreement, and she uncrosses her arms, then crosses them again. "I have missed our conversations," Teyla says, her tone almost accusatory.

"I have, me too," Meredith says. "I wanted to come talk to you." Teyla relaxes her arms to her side and steps up closer.

"I have missed you," she says, and strokes her fingers suddenly along Meredith's shoulder.

Meredith wishes she had the strength to pull away from that touch. "Don't you have Kanaan?" As soon as the words are out, she wishes she hadn't said them.

Teyla jerks as if she's been slapped, but doesn't look away. "It is not the same," she says. Her fingers squeeze at the muscle of Meredith's shoulder, cajolingly.

"Right," she says. "Look, I'm sorry I said that. I'm sorry I've been a, a jerk. This last week." She takes a breath and meets Teyla's gaze. "I'm happy for you, I am. It was all just so sudden."

Teyla's jaw clenches, but she doesn't speak; instead, she puts her other hand on Meredith's other shoulder.

It's confusing for a moment, but then Meredith sees what's going on and gets with the program, bending her head so that her forehead touches Teyla's. They've never done this before, and it feels strange, and Meredith doesn't know when she's supposed to pull away. Teyla's breath puffs against her face for a moment, and then she pulls back.

"I want to stay friends," Meredith says then, gulping. "I'm not so good at it, but I want to stay friends with you, Teyla. I missed you too."

Teyla looks confused, then nods and steps back. "All right," she says, slowly.

"I know you're staying here tonight," Meredith goes on, quickly, "but tomorrow after dinner you should come by and we can have a game of _Ky-Nill_."

"I would like that very much," Teyla says, so earnest, and something deep inside Meredith's chest unravels at those words.

-

Over the next few weeks they're cautious and polite around each other in a way they haven't been in years, carefully reenacting all the activities that never used to require planning. But it gets better with time; they don't mention Kanaan or Teyla's pregnancy, but they get more comfortable together, playing around in the labs or bending together over a game-network in Teyla's quarters. Meredith's heartbeat still picks up traitorously whenever Teyla bends near her, or brushes their hands together, but she does her best to tamp those feelings down, to tell herself that she's grateful just for Teyla's friendship.

But every time they play, or meet up in the conference room before a briefing – every time they're alone together, Meredith feels like she still hasn't finished the apology that she started on New Athos, that Teyla is still waiting for her to say more.

It's not until Teyla's almost four months pregnant that she actually gets up the nerve to do it. She's not completely out of her depth here, after all; she has a sister, she has a niece, she babysat for the next door neighbours that one time. She hates that it's her responsibility just because she's the other woman on the team, but can't quite shake the feeling that she's letting Teyla down by not saying something.

Teyla opens her door, seeming surprised to see Meredith standing there.

"Doctor McKay," she says, smiling a little. "I did not expect you. Did we have a game scheduled?"

"No, no," she says, trying not to fidget. "Is it a bad time? I can come back."

Teyla shakes her head. "Come in."

They sit down a little awkwardly on Teyla's couch. Meredith can't help the way her eyes keep drifting downwards to Teyla's stomach, even though there's no bulge there yet.

"Was there something you wanted to talk about?" Teyla prompts, gently. Her hand rests lightly on Meredith's shoulder, a gentle caress that speaks of concern. This is the way that she always touches Meredith, when they play _Ky-Nill_ or when they're walking next to each other on an alien world: the locations change, but Teyla's touch remains constant, friendly, kind.

"Uh, yeah," Meredith says, turning so that Teyla's hand falls from her shoulder. "I just . . . I know you don't have a lot of female friends, here on Atlantis," she begins. Teyla raises her eyebrows at this assertion, but doesn't say anything. "And I thought that you might need someone around to talk to, about the, the pregnancy and all. I know you and I don't – I mean, we play _Ky-Nill_ and hang out and whatever, but maybe we're not as close as we could be. Or, as close as we were, whatever. And if there are things you need, or things you can't say to John or Ronon . . . I just wanted to let you know that I'm here for you. I can be here for you." It's not as smooth as she practiced it, but it got the general point across, at least.

"Oh," is what Teyla says in answer.

After a little silence, Meredith shifts and speaks again. "I mean, you don't have to, but I just . . . I may not say it, but I do have the greatest respect, and, and admiration, for you." She tilts her chin up and manages to meet Teyla's eyes. "And I thought you might need a friend around here, since Kanaan's busy on New Athos and since, since Elizabeth's . . . gone, you know. Anyway, you can talk to me, is what I'm saying." She grimaces; she hadn't wanted to mention Elizabeth's name.

"You want to be closer," Teyla asks, hesitatingly.

Meredith feels a slow blush creep across her face, but keeps eye contact. "Yes, I suppose so," she says. "I mean, if that's what you want." Teyla's expression clears, a smile ghosting onto her face.

"Doctor McKay," she says warmly, "Meredith. I am honoured that you would come to me. Thank you for your offer."

Teyla does look honoured, is the thing; it sounds like a brush-off, and maybe it is, but it seems like her speech did make Teyla feel a little better. Meredith tries a smile and glances up into Teyla's eyes.

Teyla moves her hand from Meredith's shoulder to the back of her neck, leans in, and kisses her on the lips.

It doesn't last long; Teyla just presses their mouths together, warm and easy and lush, and then pulls back before Meredith can really do much about it.

"It is a little unusual," Teyla says, and maybe Meredith's imagining it, but it sounds like Teyla's breathing a little faster than usual. "I will speak with Kanaan about it, but . . . I have great respect for you, too, and would be honoured." The repetitive formality of her words is belied by her hand lingering on the back of Meredith's neck, the brush of Teyla's fingers against her hairline. Meredith gets the impression that Teyla is following a script of some kind.

She doesn't know what else to do, so she gives in to the longing that blooms rough inside her: she touches the side of Teyla's face, tentatively, and moves in, and kisses her the same way she's just been kissed: softly, quickly, almost like a sister, almost the way that she used to kiss Jeannie when they were little. Teyla kisses back.

"I will speak with Kanaan," Teyla says again, and stands. Meredith sits there for a moment, stupidly, before taking her cue to leave. At the door, she waves awkwardly.

"Bye." She doesn't know what else to say; she's not sure what just happened. _Water-bearer becomes a change of seasons,_ she thinks, almost hysterically.

"I will see you tomorrow, Meredith," Teyla says.

-

She spends the next day in a sort of haze, unable to take her mind off of the sweet sensation of Teyla's lips pressing gently against hers, but it's not until mid-afternoon that she realises that she and Teyla have no plans to meet up; they have no team night scheduled, no off-world mission planned. There's no reason for Teyla to see her today.

She's just starting to panic – they did have something planned, they must've, and Meredith's just forgotten it, and meanwhile Teyla is sitting somewhere waiting for her – when her radio beeps. "Meredith?"

She flicks it on, relieved. "Hi, Teyla."

"I thought you might like to join me in the mess hall for dinner. I have secured some chocolate cake for afterwards."

Meredith smiles, absurdly pleased. "Sure. When did you have in mind?"

"Right now, unless you are presently engaged in saving the universe." She can almost see Teyla's lips twist in that teasing smile she gets when she's being ironic.

She glances over at the formulae on the screen; Zelenka and Ambrose's new work on wormhole formation dynamics. Flawed, of course, but fascinating. She grins.

"I think the universe'll keep," she answers.

When she gets to the mess hall, she finds Teyla standing next to the counter, chatting with the Marine pulling caf duty today. She glances up as Meredith approaches, and the smile that graces her face when she sees her makes Meredith catch her breath, just a little.

But it's not until they're both sitting down, fork-deep in mashed potatoes, that Teyla touches her.

It's just their fingers brushing together across the table, but it's slow and deliberate: Teyla lifts her index finger and rubs slowly along the middle knuckle of Meredith's third finger, and just that one point of touch between their bodies feels intensely sexual, just the pad of Teyla's finger over the soft skin of Meredith's knuckle. Meredith swallows the bite of food she's taken, then puts down her fork, confused.

Then she turns her hand over, offering it palm-up. Teyla smiles, and strokes all four fingers slowly along the palm, not quite holding hands.

"There is a ceremony," Teyla says slowly, not meeting Meredith's eyes. She seems fascinated by the slow play of their fingers together.

"What kind of ceremony?" Meredith asks, suspicious, anxious.

"I promise that no one has to get naked, and that there is very little chanting." Meredith can't help but grin at little at Teyla's fond tone. "I spoke to Kanaan, and we have agreed that you could be my _riahan_. If – if that's what we want."

Meredith is distracted by Teyla's hand in hers, but then she catches up to the conversation and finds herself blinking. "Your – is that like your girlfriend?" Her voice squeaks ridiculously on the last word.

Teyla grimaces slightly. "Not quite. It is . . . more solemn, I think." Her eyes are hot and intense, holding Meredith's gaze. "It is a serious role that you have offered to play. Among other things, if both Kanaan and I die, you become our child's mother."

Meredith gapes. "I . . . Teyla, I'm not the one you want for that job," she sputters. "You should see me with my niece, I'm terrible, I don't know what to do with children – " Teyla's hand tightens on hers.

"I have thought about it since you came to me yesterday. I – want this," she says, her eyes dark. Meredith's chest feels tight, constricted, the way it does during an allergic reaction. As she watches, Teyla licks her lips slowly, as if trying to find the right words to say next.

"If I were being truthful, I would say that I have been thinking about it ever since I found out that I was carrying a child," she continues, and Meredith can tell that it took some effort for her to say that. Then, in a half-whisper, she adds, "Maybe even before then."

Meredith's trying to figure out how to respond to that when Teyla's gaze flicks over her shoulder, and she pulls her hand back easily. Meredith looks behind her just as John comes up and drops his tray next to hers.

"What are you ladies talking about?" he asks, with his usual attempt at gentlemanly charm.

Meredith opens her mouth out of habit, but then finds that she has nothing to say.

"Combat training," Teyla says, smiling sweetly and taking another bite of potatoes. "I am trying to convince Meredith to master a few new techniques."

"What, beyond the tuck and roll, you mean?" John asks, shocked. Meredith spares him a withering glance.

"Ha ha, Colonel. The tuck and roll has served me fine up until now."

"You've also mastered the strategic falling-down," John points out.

Meredith rolls her eyes and takes another bite of the food. "When you learn how to reprogram Ancient control crystals, I'll learn to kill people with my pinky fingers," she says.

"Okay," John agrees equitably. Meredith looks up at him, but can't tell if he's being sarcastic.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, okay, that's a good idea."

Teyla nods, as if this conversation is making any sense. "Yes, I think so too. We should all learn at least the basics."

"What are we doing?" Ronon asks, coming up to the table and sitting beside Teyla.

"We're exchanging skills," John answers promptly. "Teyla's gonna teach Meredith some hand to hand, Meredith's gonna teach me some Ancient programming, and I could teach you something."

Ronon stares impassively. "Like what?"

John juts out his chin, and his lips sort of slide to one side of his face. "I could teach you how to surf a tube," he suggests.

"Uh huh," Ronon says, digging into his food. They all eat in silence for a minute or two, then Ronon says, "I can build a bomb out of the common household objects of any planet I've been to."

"See, _that's_ useful," Meredith says, pointing at Ronon. "I could learn that."

"Undoubtedly," Teyla grins. Under the table, just for a moment, her booted foot slides fondly against Meredith's calf.

Later, when they all stand to leave, Teyla lingers uncharacteristically. So Meredith goes slowly, too, letting John and Ronon go off to do whatever it is they do with their afternoons. Teyla glances at her, then walks out onto the balcony. Meredith follows, and finds herself immediately pressed against the warm stone of the balcony wall.

Teyla's mouth is warm, too, and demanding; she pushes Meredith gently against the wall, holding her there with her body, and kisses her thoroughly, the slow play of her mouth devastating and inescapable. Meredith kisses back greedily, hungrily, getting her hands into Teyla's hair and holding her there.

Eventually Teyla slides a hand up Meredith's neck to cup her jaw, then pulls back slowly.

"Think about it," she says.

-

The next day, she learns that Teyla was serious about the self-defense lessons, because she shows up at Meredith's door at six a.m. with a gym bag and an irritatingly sunny disposition.

"Come on, Doctor McKay, it is the best part of the morning," she grins.

Meredith cracks an eye open dubiously, then jams it shut again and pulls the blanket over her face. "You cannot be serious about this," she calls, her voice muffled.

"I am serious enough to take you out of that bed by force if you do not get up under your own power," Teyla answers warningly. Meredith pulls the blankets down past her neck and looks at Teyla appraisingly.

"That sounds like fun, actually," she says, letting her voice drop a register.

Teyla – death-dealing ass-kicking cucumber-calm Teyla – blushes. Meredith stares, fascinated.

But Teyla recovers quickly. "Come on, out of bed," she says. Meredith's witty reply is cut off by the workout clothes that hit her in the face.

"You're throwing things at me now?" she grumbles, but picks up the sports bra and the yoga pants and gets out of bed.

"Whatever it takes," Teyla answers primly.

-

The workout isn't as bad as she thought it'd be; for one thing, though she'll never admit it out loud, it actually feels good to stretch her muscles and sweat a little. After twenty minutes, Meredith's forgotten about how ridiculous she probably looks and is enjoying her newfound ability, under Teyla's instruction, to actually get her body to do what she wants it to do, sometimes.

For another thing – for another thing, Teyla is _all over her:_ her hands positioning Meredith's arms, her palms holding her around the waist to demonstrate a turn, her leg nudging at the back of Meredith's knee to get her to bend properly. She could swear that Teyla lingers just a little longer than she needs to in each position, and when she lets go of Meredith's body, it is always slowly, with her fingers trailing along Meredith's flushed skin as she pulls back and away.

She's always known that Teyla is shorter than she is, but she's never had it dramatized like this. Teyla's breath skates across the nape of Meredith's neck when she sidles up behind her to show her a chokehold, and Meredith knows, suddenly, what it would feel like if Teyla kissed her there, if Teyla's mouth were just a half-inch closer to her skin.

"Now you escape," Teyla says, breathes, her muscled arms braced tight around Meredith's shoulders and neck.

Something daring and stubborn stirs inside her. "Maybe I don't want to," she says, just barely loud enough to be heard.

The arms encircling her stay in the same position, but the sensation against her neck changes: Teyla's lips pressing gently over the little protrusion of bone just below her shoulders. The kiss is slow, and soft, and deliberate. Meredith closes her eyes and presses her lips together.

Teyla drags her lips slowly up Meredith's neck and then noses at her ear. Teyla hasn't had to breathe hard through the whole lesson, but she's panting a little now, Meredith can feel it: the quick-drawn breaths push her chest against Meredith's back. Then, with no warning – no more warning than she gave of the kiss – she tightens her arms over Meredith's neck.

"Now you escape," she says again, right into Meredith's ear.

Her own breath is harsh now, too, but she manages to replicate the move that Teyla showed her before: leaning into the choke, turning, pulling down sharply. Teyla doesn't flip conveniently over her shoulder like they do in the movies, but she does lose – or give up – enough of her balance that it breaks her hold on Meredith.

"Good," Teyla says, beaming.

Meredith licks her lips. "You're not afraid – I mean, aren't you worried that you could hurt the baby, doing this?"

"You are not yet that great a danger to me, Doctor," Teyla says with a sly smile. "And besides, my balance is shifting these days, so it is good practice for me." She pauses, considering her next words carefully. "Pregnant mothers need combat training like any other parent. Like any other family member."

Meredith meets her eyes, and suddenly gets it.

"Oh," she says.

"Yes," Teyla answers. Then she just waits, patiently, standing barefoot on the gym mats as if expecting Meredith to leave. She _could_ leave, could walk away from everything Teyla's offering her, all the possibility and the responsibility.

"So, uh, you should show me that again?" she says, finally.

Teyla nods. "I can do that."

-

After that, Teyla doesn't bring up the ceremony again, but it's there between them, Teyla waiting for her answer. Teyla walks her home after team movie nights, and sometimes in between making fun of Transporter II and making fun of John's reaction to Transporter II Teyla will kiss her, right there in the corridor, still tasting salty and slick from the popcorn. Meredith catches her looking, too, a speculative, appraising look that Teyla usually reserves for alien grain stores or deployments of Wraith soldiers, when they're playing Ky-Nill late at night, the pieces laid out between them, changing within a fixed pattern. On those nights, it's usually Meredith who kisses first, puts her lips against Teyla's jaw just for a moment, just to feel the skin there.

Sometimes they don't see each other; sometimes Kanaan visits from New Athos, or Teyla goes there to see him. On those nights, Meredith stays up late working in her lab and absolutely fails to not imagine all the sex they're undoubtedly having together. When Kanaan leaves, or when Teyla comes back, Meredith suddenly can't stop looking at her pregnant belly; can't stop seeing it like a mark, a hickey, something between them.

Teyla starts hanging around the lab more often, too, and Meredith actually starts teaching her the basics of the Ancient control-interface system that she and Zelenka have rigged up. Teyla grasps the principles quickly, and unlike most of the people that Meredith has to train, has a much better understanding of Ancient software than Earth software, which makes her an interesting student. Sometimes John and Ronon show up with her, true to their word, and Meredith finds herself teaching a little class on the Ancient technology interface and the crystal configurations. It reminds her of grad school, the semesters of tedious intro courses that she taught to fulfill the department's ridiculous requirements.

Except that her students at Northwestern were never this annoying.

"John, I swear, if you put your hand up one more time . . . "

"I have a question, Doctor McKay," he says, earnestly, raising his hand. She sighs, wishing she'd given Zelenka this job, and glances over to Teyla for support.

Teyla just shrugs, grins, and puts a hand on her belly, as if to say, children.

"Okay, Mr. Sheppard, your question?" she asks, eventually, through her teeth.

"Colonel Sheppard," he says, then continues quickly before she can throw anything at him. "If a Wraith data storage device is hooked up to the tablet at the same time as an Ancient console, how do we manage the different data streams?"

Next to him, Ronon checks his notes and nods his agreement. "There's nothing in here about that, McKay," he says.

Meredith spreads her hands. "In that extremely unlikely event? You call me."

"That's what you said about our last question," Ronon complains reasonably.

"Advanced class is next semester," she says. "For now, I'm just pleased that you can all manage to press the buttons without blowing anything up, okay?"

John shrugs. "We done for the day, then, Professor?"

"Yes yes, dismissed," she says, waving a hand. John and Ronon jump up and make a hasty exit – word is that they're showing The Mighty Ducks in the lounge tonight, which is Sheppard's favourite film – and Meredith starts to pack her stuff up. It got late while they were all cooped up in the lab; all of the other scientists are gone, and most of the workstations are quiet and dark. The lamp on her desk makes a warm pool of light in the shadowy lab.

Teyla picks up her little notebook and comes to stand next to her at the bench. "You did well today," she says, quietly. "I feel much more confident manipulating the Wraith technology, after our lessons together."

Meredith looks up at her, and can't prevent the pleased smile that spreads across her face. "Yeah?" she asks.

"Yes," Teyla says, smiling back. Meredith sits down on one of the stools, just for a moment, and Teyla takes the one next to her. "Their operating system is very different from the Ancient systems with which I was familiar, but I did not realise how vast those differences were until you pointed them out. I believe I will have more success operating the hive ships, now."

"That's great," Meredith says, smiling enthusiastically. "I've been meaning to ask you, actually, how you know so much about the Ancient systems? I mean, I've never seen the Athosians using any kind of computers, much less Ancient ones."

Teyla doesn't speak for a moment, considering her words carefully. "My mother collected Ancient artifacts," she says eventually, her voice quiet in the cool darkness of the lab. "You remind me of her, sometimes. She was a scientist." As is her habit when they're alone, she's sitting with her stool right next to Meredith's, tangling their legs together lazily as she talks. She's over five months, now, and her belly swells softly under her loose shirt.

"She was?" This is news. "Was she an engineer?"

Teyla shakes her head slowly, her eyes far away. "No. Closer to . . . an archaeologist, I suppose, or a historian. She studied the Ancestors."

"But she must've dug up a lot of interesting pieces of technology, right?"

Teyla's eyes snap back to her, and she smiles wide. "I do not have her collection anymore, I am afraid."

A little heat spreads across Meredith's cheeks. "No, no, of course – I just meant, that sounds fascinating. I didn't know that about you."

"I have many hidden depths," Teyla replies, arching an eyebrow. Meredith aches a little, then, at the sheer beauty of the woman in front of her: Teyla's lips crooked upward in a sweet, teasing smirk, her eyes glinting in the low light, her face soft and open. She's never been a good judge of these things, but the moment feels intimate and slow, like the world's been slowed down just for them, just for this.

She reaches out – she has no choice but to reach out, is compelled to reach out – and cups Teyla's jaw in her palm, running her own thick, blunt fingers against the delicate skin behind Teyla's ear. Teyla turns into the touch, pressing against her hand, then turns further and presses a hot kiss to Meredith's palm.

Meredith hears her stool clatter behind her as she gets to her feet, but she doesn't take any notice of it: all of her attention is on her hands, running through Teyla's hair; on the rough, warm pressure of Teyla's lips under hers; on the sweet sensation of Teyla's palms cradling her shoulderblades, pulling her closer, pulling her in. The kiss goes on, now gentling, now speeding up, and Meredith gets a little lost in it, in the deep heat of Teyla's mouth and the wonder of her small, powerful body pressed up against her.

When it ends, Meredith feels hot and crazy with lust, but somehow chaste, too, like a suitor: she feels, simultaneously, that she needs to fuck Teyla right now, and that they have all the time in the world, that this moment extends infinitely around them.

"I want it," Meredith says, her lips still mere millimetres from Teyla's. "The ceremony. I want that."

Teyla's eyes are dark, her pupils blown wide; when she smiles, she shows teeth. "I do, too," she says, digging her fingertips into the soft flesh of Meredith's shoulders, mouthing a kiss to her neck. "Me too," she says again, the words falling welcome against Meredith's skin.

They kiss again, slower this time.

"It will take some time to arrange," Teyla says, when they break apart. "A week, perhaps."

Meredith nods against her neck. "A week, okay," she whispers. She touches a hand tentatively to Teyla's belly, and wonders how she managed to find herself a whirlwind shotgun lesbian wedding out here in the Pegasus galaxy.

-

The next day, Meredith glances at the gate log and sees Teyla's visit to New Athos, right there at the top of the schedule. She blanches, looking at it there in black and white on her computer screen; it seems so final, so certain. She gets her clothes on and rushes down to the gate room, even though she's not sure why – she has some half-formed idea of calling it off, telling Teyla that she needs more time, pulling her away from the gate. But when she gets there, Teyla is sitting in the empty chair next to Chuck, laughing some story that he's explaining with his hands, and Meredith can see, in the flash of Teyla's teeth through her lips, in the way she arches one eyebrow, wickedly – so familiar – and says something that makes Chuck laugh, that she's not here to call anything off.

Teyla catches sight of her, then, and says something to Chuck as she stands up and walks over to where Meredith is standing, just at the edge of the control consoles.

"Hi," Meredith says, on an exhalation of breath.

"Hello," Teyla replies. "You came to see me off?"

"Something like that." They're standing very close, now; too close for the gateroom, maybe.

Teyla leans in, slowly and easily, and kisses her on the cheek, closing the gap between them for a few long seconds. "I will be back the day after tomorrow," she says.

"Oh."

Teyla trails her hand gently through Meredith's short hair. "Look after John and Ronon on T1G-2H4," she adds, tucking a strand behind Meredith's ear.

"I will." Teyla turns, then, to go, but Meredith stops her with a hand on her shoulder. Teyla turns back, and Meredith gets a hand on her other shoulder.

It takes her a moment to understand, but eventually Teyla bends her head and closes her eyes. Their foreheads touch, briefly, and then Teyla pulls away, smiling.

After she slips through the gate, Meredith turns to Chuck, who is staring predictably.

"Yes? Something wrong?"

"No ma'am," Chuck says, smiling.

"I can reassign all the gate functionality reports to you if you're bored, Sergeant," she warns.

"I do those anyway," Chuck shrugs.

"Whatever," Meredith sighs, giving up. Her cheek is still tingling where Teyla kissed it.

-

Later, on T1G-2H4, John waits until Ronon's out of earshot, schmoozing the local mayor, and turns to her purposefully.

"So, you and Teyla, huh?" John's is probably the worst attempt Meredith has ever seen at acting nonchalant, even including some of her own.

"Yeah," she says. "It's kind of new." Except that it isn't, not really.

"Hey, that's great," he says, and Meredith can tell that this is him trying to actually be earnest even though he doesn't know how to do it without irony. "Um. I didn't even know you were, y'know." He makes a gesture somewhere between milking a cow one-handed and conducting an orchestra to adagio.

"Oh," she says. "I always thought you did. Know."

"No. But, I mean, it's great. I'm very open-minded," he says firmly, not looking at her.

"Right." She wonders when Ronon will be done schmoozing so that they can get to the part of the day where she fixes the villagers' technology or gets hit on by the mayor's son or gets chased by a flock of Pegasus chickens or something.

"You know," she says eventually, when it becomes clear that more conversation is required, "if you ever want to tell me about your boyfriends . . . "

"Let's go see how Ronon's doing," John says, standing up.

Meredith sniggers and follows along. She ends up fixing the villagers' technology and eating their excellent free-range Pegasus chicken, so overall it's a pretty good mission.

-

Teyla gets back on Thursday at 16:00, and by 16:20 she's got Meredith up against the wall in her quarters, taking her mouth in a bruising kiss and pushing her callused fingertips under the hem of Meredith's shirt.

"I take it," Meredith gasps in the brief moments when her mouth isn't otherwise occupied, "that everything," her head thunks back against the wall as Teyla applies lips to her throat, "is set to go?"

"Yes," Teyla manages, her hands hot and clever, spanning Meredith's waist under her shirt.

"Does this mean, oh god, can we – " she's lost her vocabulary, but she figures that with the way she's grinding shamelessly against Teyla's leg, Teyla will be able to put it together.

"Yes," Teyla says again, frantically, kissing Meredith's jaw. Then she slows, pulls her lips away and just pants against Meredith's skin. "I mean, no."

Meredith pauses with her hand rubbing against the bare skin of Teyla's lower back. "No?"

"We – it's not – the ceremony is – "

"Sacred?"

"In four days," Teyla says. "We can wait four days."

"Why?" Meredith asks, bending in again to worry her teeth against the soft skin below Teyla's chin.

"I . . . do not know," Teyla sighs, arching her neck a little.

"Okay," Meredith sighs, pulling back.

"Your people do not wait until after the formalization of the union," Teyla says. It's a statement, not a question, but Meredith answers it anyway.

"Well, no, not very many lesbians wait until after marriage. You guys always wait?"

"Traditionally," Teyla answers evasively. She's flushed and panting and gorgeous. Meredith runs the back of her fingers along her jaw. She leans in and puts her mouth next to Teyla's ear, whispering.

"May I challenge you to a game of Ky-Nill tomorrow night?" she asks, lips teasing against Teyla's earlobe. When she pulls back, Teyla has that exasperated look that she gets sometimes, the one that says you're incredibly transparent and I know what you're doing.

"I would be honoured," Teyla says, mocking Meredith's formal tone. Then she rolls her eyes and pushes Meredith out the door.

-

When she shows up at Teyla's door the next night, she feels nervous and jittery, as if something has changed between them, as if spending time alone together no longer means the same thing. The slow build between them has left her with an almost constant thrumming beneath her skin, a sensation of heat and energy that trills along her nerves and leaves her feeling drunk, heady, expectant.

But Teyla greets her in the same way she always does, and lays out the game pieces like she does every time they play, and soon Meredith's forgotten her pseudo-engagement, lost in the unfurling mathematical probabilities of the game-network.

"Skyscraper," she says, finally, laying her piece down.

Teyla stops pretending to snore and looks up from the floor. "Huh? What? You played? Is it still Tuesday?"

Meredith pokes her in the shoulder, rolling her eyes. Teyla could give John a run for his money in the competition for most juvenile sense of humour in Atlantis; it's disgusting.

Teyla does a quarter of a pushup, levering her upper body off the floor. She's lying sort of on her side, propping head up on her elbow and trailing her other hand absentmindedly over her stomach. Meredith's lying on her belly, with the game pieces set between them, and from this proximity she can see the dark smudges below Teyla's eyes, the cracked dry skin at the corner of her lips. She needs more sleep; Meredith resolves to try to get her to sleep more.

"Yes, yes, I played the skyscraper. You have to change your feral beast into a rainstorm."

"Mmmm, I do," Teyla says, studying the pieces. She flips the feral beast over to reveal another side, and . . .

"Hey," Meredith says, "Hey, wait – " Teyla also flips over the two pieces in diagonal relation to the new rainstorm.

"It appears that you have forced me to change both of these pieces into plentiful harvests," Teyla notes, as if surprised. "What a kind thing for you to do for me."

Meredith buries her face in her hands. "You played me! You are such a cheater."

"I never cheat," Teyla drawls reproachfully, arching an eyebrow as if offended.

Meredith looks back down at her remaining pieces; there's no way that a flowering herb and a wheeled cart are going to save the day at this point.

"Okay, fine," she says, feeling her mouth curve down on one side. "Fine, you win this one, Emmagan, but I am still learning, and am going to beat you eventually." She looks up to glare squint-eyed at Teyla, who is grinning that gloating-winner grin of hers that's simultaneously unbecoming and irresistable.

"I am sure that you will," she says kindly, patting Meredith's hand sympathetically. Meredith glares harder, and Teyla laughs, and leans over, scattering the game pieces with her forearms. She kisses Meredith gently on the mouth. They lean together like that for a long moment, mouths brushing softly, wet heat building between them until they start to go a little faster, a little rougher. Teyla likes to kiss a little rough, Meredith's discovered. It goes on for a long time, longer than usual; long enough for Meredith to lose herself in it a little.

Teyla breaks the kiss suddenly, tearing their mouths apart with a low groan, pulling back enough to rest her forehead against Meredith's. Meredith takes the opportunity to breathe a little, shifting her weight to one hand and reaching the other one up to caress the side of Teyla's neck and the taut muscle that slopes down to her shoulder. She runs her fingernails along that muscle, lightly, pleased at the little noises that her action wrings from Teyla, who leans forward again as if unable to stop herself, leans forward to press a series of quick, hard kisses against Meredith's lips.

Meredith kisses back in kind, running her fingernails again and again up and down the curve of Teyla's neck.

"Meredith," Teyla manages, sucking a wet trail along Meredith's neck, "come here, come over here – " she trails off, but her hands make her meaning perfectly clear; she grips Meredith by the wrists, hard, and pulls, sitting back herself to sit up on the edge of the bed and dragging Meredith with her. Meredith crawls up to sit next to her, then immediately gets her hands back on Teyla's body, gets Teyla's mouth back on her neck.

It starts to get fast then, Teyla's skin warm and lavish and encouraging beneath Meredith's hands, her mouth devastating and hot on her throat, her collarbones, the place above her heart. Meredith gasps as Teyla works a hand under her shirt from below, palming her belly and slipping a thumb into her belly button.

"Oh god, Teyla," Meredith says, scratching the pads of her fingers against the nape of Teyla's neck in the way that she likes. Her other hand is under the waistband of Teyla's BDUs, stroking against her spine and the dip of her lower back.

"Mmmmm," Teyla groans, bringing her head back up to meet Meredith's mouth again, kissing her long and hard. Her thumb keeps rubbing back and forth over Meredith's navel, pressing in obscenely, and that one simple touch is taking her apart.

"Should we," Meredith manages between kisses, "Oh, fuck, don't stop – should we, I thought you said – "

"We can," Teyla mutters against her jaw, fierce and fast where before she was always careful and restrained. "We can, we can, we just have to be careful not to, oh, not to tell – " Teyla's shifted so that she's mostly straddling Meredith now, riding herself against her leg, grinding down.

"Kanaan . . . " Meredith says, wishing as she says it that she'd kept her mouth shut.

"I spoke to him this morning," Teyla says, mouthing her neck. "and he said, he said yes, but the others – " Teyla breaks off as Meredith's fingers stroke underneath her clothes. "The others are more, hm, traditional," she says, after a pause.

She manages to get Teyla's top off, letting her breasts spill forward, gorgeous and tempting at Meredith's eye level. She palms one slowly, wonderingly, rubbing her knuckles against the smooth underside curve.

"I'm the soul of discretion," she promises fervently, and then can't help herself: she bites the curve of Teyla's breast where her hand has just been, then moves up to the nipple, sucking its hard brown length into her mouth and lapping against it, rubbing the flat of her tongue against it.

Teyla squeals and shimmies and shifts away, grabbing Meredith's head and pushing her away. "I do not, uh," Teyla mutters. Too sensitive maybe? She's not making eye contact. Meredith pulls back and tries to blink her eyes into focusing again.

"What?" she asks, bewildered. "Did you not want to – "

"No," Teyla says, "I want to," and she reaches under Meredith's shirt, unclasping her bra and tugging at the material until she raises her arms so that Teyla can peel everything off, tossing shirt and bra carelessly to the floor. Her hands keep stroking at Meredith's sides as she bends her mouth to suck at her collarbones, her neck, the dip of her throat. Teyla's tongue is pushy and clever and precise, and Meredith wishes she'd apply it a little lower; she loves having her nipples sucked.

Teyla notices her not-too-subtle attempts to nudge her downward, however, and looks up at her, confused. "What would you like?" she asks, low and husky. Meredith's body throbs at the sound, at the question.

She cups a hand under her left breast. "Suck it?" she asks, softly, breathlessly. Teyla breathes hard and shakes her head a little.

"It is – too weird," she says.

"Okay," Meredith says, not understanding. "Okay, c'mere – " she pulls Teyla back down into familiar territory, a deep, wet kiss, mouth to mouth, their tongues stroking slowly together. When Teyla pulls back from it, she's grinning widely.

"Here," she says, and shimmies downward, getting her mouth on Meredith's navel, dipping her tongue inside where she dipped her fingers before. Meredith squirms a little, uncomfortable – no one's ever really paid that much attention to her belly button, and it feels strange.

Teyla's hands span Meredith's ribs, then, fingernails pressing in hard enough that they don't tickle. Those points of pressure against Meredith's sides feel fantastic, distracting her from the slow wet press of Teyla's lips into her navel. Then Teyla presses down with her tongue, suddenly, down hard and in, and Meredith almost levitates off the bed trying to get her to stop.

"Too much, too much," she says, panting. Teyla kisses her way up Meredith's torso, over her stomach, between her breasts, ending with a little bite to her chin.

"Is that what you like?" Meredith asks. She slides her index finger into Teyla's slightly distended belly button by way of explanation.

"Yes," Teyla hisses softly. "Yes, Meredith, your mouth – " Meredith's not a genius for nothing, so she takes the hint and bends and shifts and arches her spine enough to get her mouth against Teyla's navel, to give her the same pressure and wetness and motion that Teyla'd demonstrated on her.

Teyla arches her back, pressing into the touch, and grinds down a little harder, pushing the seam of her pants into Meredith's thigh.

"Wait," Meredith says, pulling her mouth off, "wait, c'mon, we can – let me – "

"Yes, yes," Teyla says impatiently, pulling her hands off of Meredith and unbuttoning her BDUs, shimmying to shuck them and her briefs off her hips. She's not immediately successful, though, and they get caught around her ankles and calves as she tries to shift around and get them off without leaving Meredith's lap.

"I – can you – " Teyla laughs suddenly, giving up and slumping forward against Meredith's shoulder. "Help," she manages, pitifully, between convulsions of laughter.

Meredith, who never thought she'd have Teyla naked and squirming in her lap and think it was funny, laughs too, and bites Teyla's shoulder fondly before leaning over her to peel the pants off her ankles and toss them to the floor.

"Better," Teyla grins, spreading her thighs and settling over Meredith, pressing her hot cunt to Meredith's, grinding at her through two layers of clothing. The little swell of her pregnant belly is pushing against Meredith's stomach. Meredith's helpless against her, rocking with her, giving her the friction that she wants.

Then they're kissing again, kissing still, an endless sliding of tongues and lips, Teyla grazing her teeth roughly against Meredith's mouth, nipping at the soft flesh of her lower lip. Meredith surges upwards a little bit, managing to get their chests together, managing to get one of her nipples aligned with Teyla's, rubbing together deliciously.

"You ever done this?" she gasps, cupping her breast with one hand and deliberately rubbing her nipple over Teyla's.

Teyla pants, pulling her head back and looking down, watching, fascinated. "No," she says, her voice rough. Then she digs her hands underneath Meredith's pants – already unbuttoned – and her fingers push greedily into the soft flesh of Meredith's hips. "Lift up," she says.

Meredith does, and Teyla gets her pants and underwear off in one firm pull, shoving them onto the floor with her own. Then she grins, almost feral, and puts her face between Meredith's breasts; her clever tongue starts marking a trail down, over Meredith's ribs, her belly button, down until Teyla's nose is nudging against her labia.

"Jesus," Meredith says, overwhelmed by the picture in front of her. "Jesus, Teyla, do it."

Teyla slides her fingers in experimentally, reaching and twisting slowly as if memorizing the territory. "What do you like?" she asks, sounding hoarse.

"Anything," Meredith answers immediately, "anything, really, just – oh, that's nice, that'll do fine – " Teyla grins and does it again, letting her thumb push slowly down over the hood of her clit.

"Did you want my mouth?" Teyla asks. She sounds matter-of-fact, like she's at a trade negotiation; or she would, if she weren't breathing roughly, if she didn't have two fingers inside herself, too, rubbing little absent circles against her own clit. Meredith meets her eyes, and they're all pupil.

"Yeah," she breathes, "yeah, please." Teyla bends her head, and her hair falls into her eyes as she gets her hot mouth against Meredith's sex. She's clumsy at it, inexpert, but not tentative; Meredith watches Teyla, and Teyla watches her, watches every drop of sweat and every clenched muscle, listens for every stuttering of breath, every little groan that Meredith makes. Teyla is methodical, which is almost unbearably hot; she keeps her eyes fixed on Meredith with an intense level of attention, watching for a reaction to each little push of her tongue and stroke of her fingertips. Meredith squirms under that gaze; she's never had a lover so focused on her before, and it makes her feel too hot inside her skin, makes it hard to breathe.

She doesn't take her eyes off of Teyla.

It doesn't take long for that too-hot feeling to intensify, to condense into a single point of pleasure that spreads out through her body, that reaches into every cell, rushing and inexorable. The orgasm rumbles through her, washing her mind clean for that one perfect moment as she digs her heels into Teyla's back. Teyla keeps going, her lips making obscene wet noises now as she sucks and licks; it's too much for a moment, too much pressure against Meredith's sensitive clit, but then she squirms away a little and Teyla eases up and it's perfect, Teyla's clever mouth ratcheting her pleasure up again to another orgasm, unexpected but intense, shaking through her already-relaxed body like a tremor. She lets Teyla ease her through the aftershocks, then gently rubs her foot against Teyla's side, meeting her eyes when she looks up.

"Unnnnngh," Meredith manages finally, grinning, letting her ass fall back down onto the bed and letting her hands relax where she'd clenched the sheets. "Oh, wow, Teyla, that was amazing, come up here, seriously, you're great, c'mere," she says, flushed and breathing hard as her vocabulary comes back to her.

Teyla crawls back up her body and kisses her, deep and possessive, her chin still wet and sticky. Meredith groans and arches up against Teyla's body.

"Touch me," Teyla mutters, between kisses. "Touch me, please, oh," her voice trails off as Meredith runs her fingers lightly down Teyla's belly. Teyla makes a high, breathy noise that Meredith doesn't know how to interpret.

"Is that okay?" she asks, her fingertips unsure against the swell of her.

"Yes, it is just . . . sensitive," Teyla says eventually. "Please," she adds, and Meredith lets herself touch more firmly, further down. As she does, Teyla reaches down with her, tangling their fingers together inside of her, where she's soft, where she's already wet.

Teyla brings her fingers up to Meredith's mouth. "Lick," she says, her gaze hot and intense.

Meredith does, taking Teyla's fingers into her mouth and sucking them clean. Teyla's lips part.

"C'mere," Meredith says roughly, shifting Teyla around on the bed and getting her arms under her thighs. "God, you're gorgeous," she says, trailing kisses helplessly up Teyla's inner thigh. When she gets to Teyla's sex, she kisses again, inhaling the scent of her, tongue lapping at her wetness.

"Oh, yes," Teyla moans enthusiastically. "Harder, and faster."

Meredith quirks an eyebrow – she should've known that Teyla would be forthright in bed – and bends in to her task, lipping and licking softly, gripping hard at Teyla's ass and kneading. Teyla squirms against her, the powerful muscles of her legs clenching and releasing next to Meredith's flushed face.

"Lower," Teyla groans. "Just, push in a little – "

She follows the directions and applies herself in earnest, abandoning subtlety and teasing to just give Teyla what she needs, quick and relentless, sucking and licking with a speed and desperation that matches Teyla's rough aborted thrusts. After a few minutes, she brings one hand back up to help out, shoving her fingers in unceremoniously and crooking them up, rubbing in long, smooth strokes against that little rough spot inside.

Beneath her, Teyla arches up, making more noise than Meredith would've expected, all in little gasps and high whining breaths that bottom out into low groans. It's incredibly hot, Teyla sweaty and almost spread-eagled against the rough sheets, her knees drawn up, her belly hanging low and heavy near the top of Meredith's head.

Hesitantly, Meredith brings her other hand out from under Teyla's body and reaches up to stroke lightly against her side, fingers trailing along her ribs, under her breasts, then down over her stomach. Teyla reaches down, then, and grasps Meredith's hand firmly in her own. Meredith goes faster with her mouth and slower with her fingers, alternating slow, firm strokes inside with quick, soft pressure against Teyla's clit. Teyla's grip on her hand tightens, almost painfully, and then there's a gush of liquid against Meredith's chin and neck. She keeps going, keeps the same steady pace, rubbing her mouth gently against Teyla's sex until she hears her breathing slow and feels her thighs shift as she relaxes, boneless, into the bed.

"How're you doing?" Meredith asks, not wanting to ask did you come.

Teyla's hands flail clumsily at Meredith's shoulders. "Come back up here," she says. Meredith does, and Teyla kisses her, and then Teyla says, "That was lovely."

And Teyla's hands are still all over her, rubbing against her thighs, her stomach, between her breasts and over her collarbones. Her fingers play over Meredith's body, but not anxiously: it's as if Teyla just can't get enough of the sensation of her fingertips against Meredith's skin. Meredith doesn't know how to answer that touch, so she just offers herself up, wrapping an arm around Teyla's waist and pressing her face into her neck. She feels overwhelmed, so she closes her eyes tight and buries her nose against Teyla's skin.

"I did not want to wait any longer," Teyla mutters, kissing her neck hungrily. She sounds almost like she's talking to herself. "I tried, but I could not do it."

"Yeah," Meredith says, eyes still shut. She runs her hands over Teyla, breathes her in. She feels too hot and too sweaty, and she'll have to move in a moment, but just for now she stays pressed against Teyla. "I couldn't either."

-

The ceremony isn't as complicated as Meredith expected. Halling says some things about family and new blood and responsibility and love, a little old Athosian lady draws Ancient letters on their palms, and Kanaan kisses her on the forehead and between the collarbones. The way that he looks at Teyla, after – the way that Teyla looks at him – still raises the hot rush of jealousy inside of her, still raises unkind and uncharitable thoughts about Kanaan that she knows, deep down, he doesn't deserve. She tries to smile at him; tries to make it genuine. He smiles at her, kindly, openly, as if he can see right through her and accepts her anyway. That only makes it worse.

Teyla steps forward, then, and repeats Kanaan's action: presses her lips to Meredith's forehead, then between her collarbones. It's all she can do to remain still. Her fingers twitch nervously at her sides, and she flushes a little at this gesture, so intimate, so public. When Teyla draws back, though, Meredith's own stubborn streak flares up; before she can think better of it, she reaches out and stills Teyla with a hand on her shoulder then – slowly – tilts her head down a little.

Teyla meets her halfway, and they kiss softly, gently, on the lips.

The dozen or so Athosians who came to witness make a little noise at that, but Meredith ignores it in favour of tasting Teyla's mouth, the sweet, barely-there pressure of her tongue that Meredith can never get enough of.

When they pull apart, Teyla licks her lips and raises a knowing eyebrow. "That was an Earth custom?"

"Yeah," Meredith says, her voice sounding a little rough. "That's how we do this ceremony in Canada."

Teyla nods, and reaches back for Kanaan's hand, reaches forward for Meredith's.

There's food afterwards, though mercifully there's no dancing. Meredith picks up one of the vegetable-kebab things that the Athosians make for special occasions and takes a bite. Then she looks to her right, where one of the Athosians is standing and staring at her.

"Hi," Meredith says, around a mouthful of kebab. "How's it going?"

The Athosian smiles, tight-lipped. "Fine," he says, and walks away.

Meredith's long since gotten over caring about what assholes think of her, so she shrugs and goes on eating. But the pattern recurs: though a few of the Athosians – people she recognizes as Teyla's close friends, her cousin, Halling's sister – make a point of congratulating her and smiling, many of them seem uncomfortable.

After the fifth or sixth person gives her the cold shoulder, she turns in frustration to Teyla and Kanaan. "Okay, what's the deal? Do I have something on my face?"

Kanaan sighs. "I told you this would happen," he says, quietly, to Teyla.

"Hello!" Meredith says. "Hi, I'm your wife's girlfriend? You can talk to me. What happened?"

Teyla bites her lip. "They don't – it is because you are not . . . " her brow furrows, the way that Radek's does sometimes when he's translating from Czech to English. "You do not have children of your own," Teyla finishes, gently.

"Oh," Meredith says.

She got into a screaming match with her mother, once, back when she was in college and started talking about girlfriends instead of boyfriends. She'd defended her right to exist at the top of her voice, and she was brilliant and she was right, even if her mother couldn't admit it, and she still looks back on that argument with a kind of hot satisfaction; she'd do it again if she could. But this – this is different; she's not sure how to defend herself against this, doesn't even know the language she would use to do so.

"Teyla's family has always been unconventional," Kanaan says, cupping her shoulder gently. "Everyone will get used to it."

Meredith nods. She feels embarrassed, though she doesn't know why. She shrugs gently out of Kanaan's grip.

"Hey," Teyla says, in that soft way that she's learned from John. "Hey. Come here." And she cups the back of Meredith's neck and takes her mouth, gently, with determination.

-

At the gate, Teyla kisses Kanaan thoroughly, and for a long time. He holds her to him, their bodies comfortable and familiar together. Meredith watches.

"I will see you in a few days," Teyla says, finally, licking her lips and pressing her forehead to Kanaan's.

"You had better; I need your help with the Minarians." Kanaan trails a knuckle fondly against her jawline.

Teyla smiles, lop-sided and genuine, and then breaks their embrace. Kanaan turns to look at Meredith.

"Welcome to the family," he says, smiling.

"Thank you," Meredith answers.

When Teyla walks over to Meredith's side, Meredith takes her hand, trying to remember the advice of her previous girlfriends, who all told her that jealousy was really unbecoming.

But Teyla just presses her palm firmly and dials the gate for home.

-

When they step through the gate, there are streamers. And confetti.

"Oh god," Meredith moans. "Okay, who told?"

John walks up, all loose-limbed, with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Ronon got it from a guy who got it from Teyla's cousin," he says. Then he raises a paper noisemaker to his lips and blows on it. The paper end spins out in front of his face as he waggles his eyebrows.

"You should've told me, Mer," he says, knowing full well that she hates that nickname, "I woulda thrown you a bachelor party."

"Yes, and we can all imagine the horrors that would've induced, so under the circumstances, perhaps it's best that we kept things quiet, hmm?"

"Perhaps," Teyla laughs. "I think we all remember and regret the events of Corporal Anderson's bachelor party, after all."

"I don't remember it so well," Ronon says, grinning. "But I did wake up naked, with a – "

"I'm gonna cut you off right there, buddy," John says, overriding Ronon. Which is too bad, actually; Meredith's never heard that story.

"Anyway, we wanted to say congratulations," Ronon shrugs. Then he wraps them up – first Meredith, then Teyla – in exuberant hugs, squeezing them a bit too enthusiastically.

"Air," Meredith gasps, during her hug. Teyla takes hers in stride, squeezing Ronon right back.

John looks uncomfortable, but then he hugs them too, as if out of social necessity: awkward and distant, upper-body only, his hands ridiculously gentle. Meredith rolls her eyes and loves him a little.

"Congratulations, guys," he says, looking relieved as he backs away.

After that they have to hug their way through most of Atlantis, since it seems that Ronon is something of a gossip and the word is out. Meredith gets far too close to far too many members of her science team – she's seen the personal hygiene regimens of these people, and usually establishes a two-foot perimeter of personal space around herself in the labs as a result. But it turns out that if you have an offworld alien threesome lesbian commitment pregnancy ceremony, all of a sudden everyone has the right to touch you.

When they get through the hordes, Teyla takes her hand again and leads them to her room. Meredith feels hot anticipation bloom in her belly.

"I got you a gift," Teyla says. Her palm is sweaty against Meredith's; nervous.

"Yeah?" Meredith asks. She didn't get Teyla anything; she's pretty much a failure as a wife already.

"Look," Teyla says, dragging them across the threshold and over to the table. There's a set of intricate polished stones laid out across the desk.

Meredith stares. "Teyla, you – did you make these?"

Teyla gives her a look. "When have you ever seen me engrave a stone? No, I had Riyala make them for you."

She runs her fingers tentatively over the set of game pieces. Some of the markings are familiar, but some aren't. "These aren't the same as your set," she says, tentatively.

"Every set is unique. For you, Riyala changed some of the less-familiar Athosian symbols into icons more familiar to you." Teyla comes up behind her and wraps her arms around her, pressing them gently together from shoulder to hip. She reaches around and picks up a stone, holding it up in front of them. "Serpent, water-bearer, ZPM," she says, pointing.

Meredith laughs, touching the piece in Teyla's hand. "The rules don't change, but the pieces do," she says softly, and turns in Teyla's grasp, and kisses her, slowly, on the mouth.

When they break apart, Teyla caresses her face, then runs her hand down to play her fingertips against the soft hairs on Meredith's arm.

"Does it bother you, that I have another lover?" Teyla asks, suddenly. Her tongue comes out to moisten her lips.

Meredith takes a deep breath and runs her hands against Teyla's shoulder, the backs of her knuckles tracing the soft skin and smooth muscle. "Yes," she says.

Teyla nods slowly, then steps a little closer, resting her palm against Meredith's side, just below her breast, almost cupping it.

"Do you," Meredith stammers, then presses her lips together and tries again. "Does it bother you that I don't have a, a child?"

"Yes," Teyla says softly, and then they're kissing again, deep and slow and wet, taking their time.


End file.
